My Teacher Read online

  Her thighs hurt, but she felt … good.

  She knew she was going to suffer later, but that was okay. She could suffer a little. She didn’t mind. As she brushed her hair, she thought about Mr. Parker; Jack. The small smile he gave her as he said he’d see her around. Biting her lip, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Since he’d moved to the school, she’d thought he was a nice teacher, and he’d given her a ride home a couple of times.

  She shook her head. It was completely ridiculous. Jack Parker wasn’t ever going to see a girl like her. Not when he had Ms. Bertram and all the other girls at school who were prettier, slimmer, and just a better match.

  Still, she liked talking to him, and he didn’t treat her like a child, or like she possessed some kind of disease. She liked that, and after she finished combing her hair, she made her way downstairs.

  “Well, don’t you look all sexy,” Marie said.

  Her friend was in a summer dress, hands on her hips as she swung them from side to side.

  “Stop it.”

  “I thought you burned all your dresses?”

  “I didn’t. I’ve got a couple. My parents don’t like me dressing in jeans all the time.” Also, her mother liked to buy her clothes that were always a dress or skirt of some kind. “I just don’t wear them for school.”

  “You know Connor is a jerk. I bet he has a small dick, which is why he acts like a bigger one. It’s compensating for being an asshole.”

  “I love you,” she said, moving up to her friend and holding her close.

  “Of course you do. Don’t you get it, yet? I am totally awesome. The best friend a girl could ever have.”

  “That you are,” she said, hugging Marie.

  “Okay, you’re starting to freak me out right now. What happened on your run?”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to tell her about bumping into Jack, but she just shook her head. She didn’t want her friend causing any problems, not that she would.

  Jack Parker was a nice man, and she liked him.

  He was good at his job, and he’d been nice to her, but that was it.

  “It was just a good run.”

  “You do know I find that weird, right? The whole running thing?” Marie said, opening a bag of cheesy fries.

  “You find a lot of things weird.”

  “I just don’t get it. At least you don’t have one of those weird running machines either. Now, I’ve got everything set up. Pizza is already ordered, and the DVD is in.”

  “What are we watching first?” she asked.

  “Sleepers.”

  She groaned. “Isn’t that a little … dark?”

  “Come on, it’s a classic, and so good.”

  Seeing no point in arguing, Lucia sat down beside her friend, her own bag of cheese chips in her lap as they watched the movie unfold. Brad Pitt was barely even there at the start, or for most of the movie. They paused it halfway through as pizza arrived.

  Marie demanded Brad Pitt marathons often, so Lucia didn’t have to sit and watch them to know what was going to happen next. Her thoughts returned to her encounter with her teacher. She’d been thinking about him more and more over the past couple of days. Friday night had been a little awkward when he’d offered to take her home.

  She hadn’t meant for it to be so. When he’d said to her that he was just being a gentleman, she’d understood that.

  Then she’d felt embarrassed at him believing even for a second, she meant something else by it. She knew that Jack would never do that.

  Teachers and affairs, or relationships like that. It would never happen.

  She hadn’t known what to say to him, or how to make it better, so she’d stayed silent.

  “You okay?” Marie asked.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

  “You’re just … tense.”

  “The run is making me ache is all.”

  She was a little uncomfortable with her own thoughts about her teacher. She didn’t want to think about him or try to understand what was going on in her own head.

  “Do you think students sleep with teachers?”

  “All the time, why?”

  “I don’t know. It was just something I thought about.”

  “I guess it happens often. I don’t know if anyone is doing it in our school. I doubt it would even be gossip-worthy, you know.”

  “I know. It’s fine.” She rested her head on her friend’s shoulder.

  “You’re being weird, and coming from me, that means something.”

  She chuckled, glancing up at her friend. “How did you get cheesy chips in your hair?”

  “It’s a gift. I’ll shower later. Remember, we’re making a weekend of it.”

  “You don’t want to go home?” Lucia asked.

  “Nope. I like being here.” Marie took her hand, and they continued to watch the movie.

  Lucia would stop thinking about Jack Parker. He was her teacher, and that was how it was going to stay.

  Even as she thought it and knew there was no chance of him ever looking at a girl like her, she wished that just once, maybe he would. Maybe he’d see past her flaws and maybe like what he saw.

  Don’t be so stupid, Lucia.

  ****

  “Poetry brings emotions to real life without the need for creating characters, or situations for them to be in. The author can be completely anonymous and no one could ever feel or even understand that true pain or that love. It’s what sets poetry apart from prose,” Jack said, looking around the classroom. He couldn’t help but look at Lucia as he spoke. There was so much to be had with poetry, and he didn’t think she understood the power it had. He didn’t have long to teach about poetry, but he intended to make sure his students certainly didn’t mock it, especially as it was part of their exams as well. He checked the time and saw it was nearly time for the bell to ring. “Right, for next Monday I want you all to write a poem. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I get it. I’m such a bad teacher.”

  The grumbling changed to laughter.

  “What exactly do you want us to write about?” Rachel asked. She had that smile on her face, and he noticed she’d opened a couple of buttons of her shirt.

  “I want you to write about your feelings. What makes you tick. How life affects you.”

  “That’s easy. I’m fucking awesome,” Connor said, slapping the hand of his friend beside him.

  “What you love. What you hate. This is the point of poetry. It doesn’t have to have any one theme. It can be a load of nonsense if you wish, or something deep. It depends on how seriously you guys take it, but as you’re writing, think about it. Think about the past authors of poetry and what they had to do.” The bell rang. “Right, I’ll see you all in a couple of days.”

  They didn’t all have English classes every single day, and he would be teaching another year soon.

  He noticed that Lucia dawdled. She took her time putting stuff in her bag and she kept waiting for people to leave.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  Her gaze moved to him. “I’m fine. Just waiting. It’ll be easier to get to my locker.”

  “It’s lunchtime.”

  “I know, but it will be easier.” She smiled, and her dimples were once again in place.

  “I expect you to take this assignment seriously,” he said. “I know you don’t like poetry.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I get it, Mr. Parker. I’ll write a poem. You never know, I may even like it after.”

  He chuckled. “That’s the aim.” He held up the book, realizing he didn’t want her to leave the room.

  Bad.

  Fucking bad.

  “Are you set to make it home tonight?” he asked.

  “Yeah, Marie, my friend, is taking me home. Thank you.”

  He stared at her, wanting to ask so many questions.

  She licked her lips, and he quickly looked away.

  “Please tell me we’re still friends,” Ms. Bertram said, coming toward his door.

  Bef
ore he could say anything, Lucia left, and he turned his attention to Beth. It was lunch so he didn’t have much planned. Just sitting and enjoying the sandwiches he’d made for himself.

  “Of course, why wouldn’t we be?”

  “You know.” She ran a hand down her face. “I can’t believe I totally drank too much Friday night. I promise that rarely happens.” She held her two fingers close together.

  “It was fine. I took you home. Made sure you were safe.”

  “You’re such a gentleman. There’s not many men left like you in the world,” she said, stepping closer into the room.

  He didn’t say anything, but his thoughts returned to Lucia. Ever since he’d seen her at the park Saturday morning, he’d thought about her, and it was so fucking inappropriate of him.

  “Thank you.” He didn’t feel comfortable right now talking to this woman. Fresh air was what he needed. Grabbing his keys and lunch, he looked toward the door. “I’m just going to step out for a bit.”

  “You’re not coming to the staff room?”

  “Not today, no. Maybe another time. I just need to clear my head. Get ready for another class.” He locked the door, gave her a smile. “I’m pleased you’re okay. Not too much of a hangover.”

  “It was awful, but I survived.” She touched his arm, and he nodded his head.

  “I better be going. Lunch time is ticking.” He left her standing beside his door, and he walked out of the school building, heading toward a small, secluded place where he’d been able to go many times to clear his head. It was close to the bleachers that were outside overlooking the large football field.

  He’d never played football in school.

  Instead, he’d been one of the rebel kids who shouted back to teachers, and did whatever he wanted.

  Pulling the small box over, he sat down and couldn’t help but laugh at how he’d changed. There was a time he’d have been in that staff room and had every single woman eating out of the palm of his hand. It had been a long time since he’d been with a woman.

  Moving to Beyer Hill High School, he’d made plans to change, to make sure he didn’t screw this up. He liked the school, and they were one of those that started their academic year in mid-August.

  Taking a bite of his sandwich, he closed his eyes.

  “What are you going to do about the gym thing?”

  “I don’t know. She’ll probably give me the card today and make me go. I checked it out online, and they’ve got a pool. That could be cool.” When he recognized Lucia’s voice he looked up, and there she was, with a friend he guessed was Marie, eating lunch. She wasn’t at the cafeteria.

  There was no way they could see him either. Gritting his teeth, he chewed his food, and couldn’t help but listen. He’d come here for privacy, away from all the talking of the teachers. Most of the time he could stand it, but today, he’d simply wanted peace.

  “I think it’s wrong. What kind of mother gives her daughter a gym membership?”

  “The kind that thinks their daughter is fat and needs a helping hand. It’s no different than not getting a car, Marie. You know that.”

  “Ugh, that still pisses me off.”

  Why wasn’t she allowed a car?

  “Walking can be fun.”

  “Yeah, and when it’s dark and lone serial rapists are on the street and they hurt you, they’re going to be wishing they got you a car.”

  He clenched his hands into fists, and then his gut twisted at Lucia’s response. She laughed.

  “There’s no way a serial rapist will ever look twice at me.”

  “I hate it when you do that,” Marie said. “You’re not fat, and you’re not ugly.”

  “I’d say you’re one against most of the population of our class.”

  “They’re idiots and clearly can’t see.”

  He liked this Marie. She was a good friend.

  Lucia chuckled. “I love you, and this is supposed to be our lunch. Not both of us arguing about my mom’s gift to the gym to help me lose all the extra pounds.”

  “Yeah, well, your birthday is at the beginning of October. I hate to think what they’ll get you.”

  She would be eighteen. Officially an adult.

  “I don’t know, but I’m sure we’ll both have something to say about it.” He watched as Lucia nudged her friend. “Come on. Let’s not argue about this.”

  “You’ve already said senior year is sucking in a big way.”

  “Yeah, well, it is. Everyone is the same. They’re not grown up. They’re total assholes, and I can hate this if I want.”

  He saw Marie hug her. “I want you to love this year. Come on, it’s the last year of our lives before it gets really serious. Right now, it’s only a little and we’re supposed to have so much fun.”

  “What would you consider fun?”

  “Skinny dipping.”

  “Yeah, good one,” Lucia said.

  “Making out with random guys.”

  “Ew. Think about what I could catch.”

  That’s a good girl.

  “Okay, how about having an affair with a teacher?”

  “What?” Lucia asked. “That is not even possible.”

  “Why not? Rachel, the slut, keeps talking about how she’s going to bag your English teacher. What’s his name?”

  “Mr. Parker?”

  “Yeah. The only good-looking teacher around, I’ve been told.”

  He heard Lucia laugh. “You’re so funny. There’s no way in hell that I would ever have an affair with a teacher.”

  “Why not?” Marie asked.

  “Because it’s wrong.”

  “It’s kinky. Think about it, he’s, like, way old, and he looks hot, which means he knows a thing or two. What better way to lose your virginity than with a guy that literally knows it all.”

  “You’re insane, okay? I think this lack of chocolate thing has gone completely to your head. What happened to you thinking he was old, or that most teachers are old and gross?”

  He shouldn’t be listening to this.

  This conversation was for girls’ diaries.

  Not to be overheard in the bleachers.

  He had to leave, but he couldn’t force himself to stand up.

  “I’ve thought about it, and you know what, high school guys are the stuff of a virgin girl’s nightmares. But a very experienced older guy? The stuff of a virgin girl’s dreams. Are you denying it because you think you’re not pretty enough to catch his attention?”

  “Can we drop this?” Lucia asked. “I don’t want to talk about it. I’m not the kind of person who has affairs with teachers. I’m just me, and I want to finish lunch and head to my next lesson.”

  “Fine. Fine. I’ll shut up.”

  They were silent for several minutes, and he finished his lunch.

  “But if something was to happen, you’d tell me, right?”

  “No,” Lucia said with a giggle. “Okay, if I had this amazing, ‘kinky’ affair as you’re calling it with Mr. Parker, I wouldn’t tell a soul.”

  They stood up, and he listened to them walking away.

  Once he was sure the coast was clear, he got up and made his way back to his classroom. He felt in a bit of a daze from what he’d heard.

  Lucia was a charming young woman.

  She wasn’t a girl.

  None of the kids he taught were girls anymore.

  He remembered what it was like to be that age.

  At fourteen he’d already lost his virginity and made it his personal mission to find out everything about pleasuring the opposite sex. If women fucked him or girls his own age did, he wanted them to be fucking amazed by how good he actually was.

  It was also the best way of making them come back for more.

  Pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind, he finished the rest of his day in a bit of a daze still and didn’t linger to chat with the other teachers.

  He went to his car, which was parked toward the end of the parking lot, and there was Lucia
up ahead, playing with her phone once again as she walked away from the school. Climbing into his car, he drove toward her, pulling up beside her. At first, she didn’t even notice someone was there.

  Jack followed her, waiting until she spotted him.

  When she did, she jumped and placed a hand across her chest.

  “You scared me.”

  “Good. Get in.”

  “I’m good.”

  “You lied to me,” he said.

  “No, I didn’t lie.”

  “Where’s your friend?”

  “She had to go and help her mom out. She was giving me a ride, I promise.”

  “Get in.”

  “You really don’t need to take me home.”

  “I don’t feel comfortable with you walking all that way home.”

  She rolled her eyes, but stepped toward the door, opening it.

  “You know I could scream ‘stranger danger,’” she said, climbing in.

  “When I offer you candy or something like that, I expect you to scream it.”

  She burst out laughing. “I’m not much of a candy girl, but a big tub of strawberry cheesecake ice cream and I’ll be putty in your hands.”

  He made a note to remember that.

  “So, you don’t think my homework is too hard?” he asked.

  “Oh, it is. I’m going to completely suck at this. There’s going to be a lot of laughs.”

  “I imagine there will be a lot of stupid poems. Stuff about being pretty. Being popular, sex, and all those kinds of things. It’s supposed to be fun mixed with serious.”

  “How can it be serious?” she asked. “Especially if they’re going to write ‘stupid poems.’” She air quoted, which he found the cutest thing.

  “Because even though it starts out being a joke, most people will sit back, think, and then it allows them to process their inner pain. Their thoughts that are completely secret. They become exposed, raw, and in need of someone to hear, to see. Writing, poetry, it is all part of that.”

  “Wow,” she said. “I never really thought about it that way.”

  “Think about my homework. Don’t mock it just yet.”

  She chuckled. “I won’t mock it. Thank you for the ride, Mr. Parker.”